


Frosty the Soldier

by PanicFOB



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:33:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanicFOB/pseuds/PanicFOB
Summary: You and your daughter work on a surprise for Bucky when he gets home from his mission. Can be read as a one-shot or as a continuation of Sips of Love.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	Frosty the Soldier

“Which scarf do you think, darling?” you held up a deep red knit one and a cashmere black.

The little girl scrunched her face in thought for a moment. “That one,” she finally said as she pointed to the black. “That’s his favorite color,” she added.

You let out a little chuckle. She had a good point. You placed it in the box with all the rest of the decorating supplies.

“Go put your snow boots on, and we’ll head out to the backyard to get started.”

“Do you think we’ll have enough time?” she shouted back at you as she ran down the hall.

You glanced at the large clock above your king-sized headboard. You’d bet anything it would be another hour before he dragged his tired feet through the door.

“We’ll have plenty! I promise!”

You listened to soft footfalls scattering through the house. A dash to her bedroom, a dart to the pile of shoes next to the front door, a return to her bedroom because she clearly forgot something, and then a loud jump onto the couch where she pulled her boots on with great effort. You went to your large closet and pulled your own boots on before grabbing the box and meeting her in the living room.

“Do you think they ever build snowmen on their missions?” she asked you in that small voice as you led her through the back door and out into the white-blanketed yard.

“I doubt it, darling. I’m sure they get a little too busy to do fun things like that.”

“Daddy said missions can be fun sometimes,” she told you in a matter-of-fact voice as she scooped some snow into her gloved hands and began forming it into a ball.

An image of your husband grinning wide as he threw knives at a target flashed through your brain. “A different kind of fun,” you corrected.

The two of you didn’t talk much after that, silently working the snow into the different-sized, compact mounds. The sun was well hidden behind a cloud and the air was crisp, but the puffy coat you’d pulled on was leaving you sweating as you labored over this masterpiece. You stacked the mounds together and stepped back to get a good look at your handiwork.

“It’s lopsided,” she complained.

“So is your dad, which makes it perfect.”

She let out a delightful laugh at that. What did it say about you that all your best jokes were for the humor of a seven-year-old? You couldn’t complain though; every day spent with her was filled with jubilance.

You pushed the cardboard box toward her, the bottom of which was quickly getting soaked through with snow. She pulled out the buttons first, two different sizes but both the perfect shade of steel-blue. You’d gotten them off a couple different sweaters you’d bought for him when you were first dating. You loved when he wore things that matched his eyes.

Next was the carrot. She shoved it into the snow with such force you worried the head might fall completely off.

“Be careful there, darling.”

“I gotta make sure it won’t fall off. Daddy says all the time that when it’s so cold, his nose freezes off.”

You smiled. He must have come up with a PG version to say around her because you distinctly remembered hearing him say, “freezing my balls off” many a time. 

She picked up the little pebbles you had gathered and held them in her small palm as she placed each one carefully into a smile just below the carrot. You remembered a time when a smile from him was so very rare. Now, he couldn’t keep a frown on his face if he tried while home with the two of you.

“Arms next. Scarf last,” you said as you handed her a stick.

And then it was done. Not a moment too soon because she was shivering a worrisome amount. You guided her back inside and pulled her snow-caked boots off as she snuggled into the cozy couch.

“Cover up with that blanket and I’ll get some hot chocolate started for you, okay?” You punctuated your sentence with a kiss to her cold and chubby cheek.

“Thank you, mommy.”

You went to your kitchen, opened the fridge covered with colorful crayon drawings, and pulled out the milk. Her plain hot chocolate powder was at the very front of the shelf when you opened the cabinet. She must have had some yesterday when you were at work and he had stayed home with her. Sometimes, you caught him giving her more than the agreed two cups per day. He had a hard time saying no when she batted her long eyelashes.

The milk boiled and you poured it into two mugs, both of which were painted with a Winter Soldier star. You’d had yours for ages, but hers had been a recent present since she turned out to love hot chocolate just as much as you did.

Back on the couch, her legs in your lap as she carefully sat up and took slow sips of the warm beverage, you grabbed the remote and found the _Frosty the Snowman_ cartoon playing on TV.

“I thought he’d be here by now,” she said with a sigh.

You glanced at your phone. It was one minute away from the time he’d promised to be home by. “He should be here any moment,” you reassured her.

And then you heard the engine of a motorcycle, one you’d been picked up on for many dates. It shut off in the driveway and heavy steps led to the front door. A key in the lock.

“Daddy!” she sat her cocoa on the coffee table and ran to him. He swooped her up and threw her over his shoulder before spinning around.

“What’cha up to, kiddo?”

“Drinking hot chocolate,” she said into his shoulder blade, her words interrupted by fits of giggles.

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“I had to drink it to get warmed up. We’ve been out in the cold aaaaaall daaaaaaay looooooong.”

He finally sat her down and she ran back to the couch, taking another sip from her mug before grabbing her wet boots and pulling them back onto her feet.

“Hey beautiful,” he said to you. He leaned down to kiss your sweet lips, and you tilted your head up to meet him. “How could you let this poor child be out in the cold aaaaaaall daaaaaaay loooooong?” he mocked her.

“We made a surprise for you, Daddy.” She grabbed his metal hand trying to run toward the back door as she tugged him along.

You slipped your boots back on as well and followed them out.

The three of you stood in front of it, and Bucky was silent for a very long time. You and your daughter waited anxiously for his reaction. Then, you saw it. The tremors of laughter that started deep in his belly and flowed up through his chest, belting out in a deep chortle that made you and your girl smile brightly.

“Is that a fireplace poker for my left arm?” he asked after he had caught his breath.

“Well, it had to be something metal. She insisted,” you explained.

He lifted her up again, holding her in his arms with a loving hug. “It’s wonderful, kiddo.” He pulled you into the hug as well, and you buried your gleeful face into his warm shoulder. Nothing in this world was quite as spectacular as being her mom and his wife.


End file.
